


Acceleration

by yukiscorpio



Category: Tennis no Oujisama | Prince of Tennis
Genre: M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-09-24
Updated: 2013-09-24
Packaged: 2017-12-27 11:57:50
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 7,702
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/978577
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/yukiscorpio/pseuds/yukiscorpio
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>The quickest way to go from Point A to Point B is always a straight line. The question is, is Point B where you really want to go to?</p>
            </blockquote>





	Acceleration

**Author's Note:**

> Originally published on LJ on 4 February 2008.

_Force equals to mass multiplied by acceleration._

_Acceleration is the change in velocity, which is a speed with a direction._

_The mass is you._

_You feel a force when the car you are sitting in starts to move, you feel it when it pulls to a stop, or when it takes a turn. Your body feels it, moving backwards, forwards or leaning to the side slightly. That is because of the change in velocity - the change in speed, or the direction you are travelling in, has resulted in a force. During the journey, if you travel at constant velocity - same speed, same direction - you feel no force at all._

_The reverse is true: if you let a force act upon you, then you will change the speed and direction of travel._

_I used to think this is the rule of life: if I let nothing affect me, then I will keep on going, steadily in a straight line in the direction I have chosen, like an object thrown into space where no frictional or gravitational forces act upon it and so it keeps moving forever. And because the quickest way to go from Point A to Point B is always a straight line, surely this is the best approach to life._

_But ah, I am talking about something without putting it in context._

_I do that often, as my friend Itsuki would tell you. I hide this bad habit rather well, but she says that she has known me for too long for me to hide anything from her, and she is right. She always is._

_If I were to tell you about Itsuki, I would be writing forever. She is my inspiration, my light, and many things that are positive in my life. She is intelligent, caring, incredibly determined, and breathtakingly beautiful. She is one of those people who makes you feel entirely inadequate, but completely loved._

_This story is not about her, however, but about a force that has acted upon me. I hope that you are not disappointed, and that you will give me a chance. I promise to include plenty of Itsuki in my story. It would be impossible to not include her, anyway._

_So, please picture this: at an average town, in an average neighbourhood, three children became friends. One of them was Itsuki, as described before. Another was Ken, who was very short but one could easily tell he would grow up tall and handsome, the type who would become either a police officer or a national sports hero. Ken was someone who could be easily misunderstood because of his tenaciousness, his direct and seemingly foolish approach to issues, and his iron discipline, drilled into him by a family which valued tradition._

_The third child was me. I had straight hair, small eyes, and an above-average intelligence. I was the child every parent wanted their children to be best friends with because of my good manners and good grades in school. Looking back, I was a rather adorable child, and an extremely lucky one to have found such extraordinary friends._

_We had been best friends since the day we met. It is a relationship that still exists now, and I hope it will go on forever. I love them both with all my heart._

_It may come as a surprise to most people that my first love was not Itsuki. That title belongs to someone else, a childhood sweetheart who I may not talk to for years, but the moment I do, I feel as though we only last met yesterday and I know that nothing has changed between us. It was the best kind of first love anyone could have had. In a sense, I think I am still in love with her. But perhaps I am merely in love with the idea of still being in love with her._

_I do wonder if Itsuki and Ken are jealous and if they are, are they jealous of her, of me, or of the concept of the two of us._

 

When food arrived, Renji looked at his friends apologetically and gestured for them to start first. Yukimura folded his arms on the table and shrugged, and Sanada did his best to not roll his eyes at the behaviour of his friend's friend. Holding the phone, Renji tried to interrupt several times, but each time only opening his mouth briefly before he closed it again to smile and continued to listen.

It was a few minutes later that Yukimura snatched the phone from Renji's hand. "Hi Inui. This is Yukimura Seiichi." He listened for the reply and then said, "sorry to interrupt your conversation, but our food's getting cold."

Renji took his phone back. "Apologies, Sadaharu. Could I ring you back tonight?"

After Renji ended the call, Yukimura rolled his eyes. "Does he ever shut up?"

"He just gets carried away easily. When he gets excited over something, it's difficult to get a word in edgeways." Renji took a look at Sanada's frown, and added, "I suppose it's something I can appreciate more readily than you can, since Sadaharu and I are similar."

A mental comparison between Yanagi Renji and Inui Sadaharu drew a blank in Sanada's mind. Not that Sanada knew a whole lot about Inui or could even remember what he looked like, having only seen him in the Kantou Tournament, but he just did not think anybody could be like Renji at all. Besides, Renji never yammered on endlessly.

Something about Renji seemed to have changed ever since meeting his old friend at Kantou. On the surface, there were the phone calls. But there was a deeper kind of change that Sanada could not put his finger on, and this annoyed him.

Something else annoyed him, too, but he would rather not encourage his own immaturity.

"Sorry, I should have hung up sooner."

When Yukimura didn't reply, Sanada looked up from his chicken and egg on rice, realising that the apology was directed at him. "Oh, no," he must have had one of his angry expressions on his face. "I was just thinking about something," he said, breathing a silent sigh of relief when Renji accepted his explanation with a smile.

When lunch was over, Yukimura checked the time. "I've got an appointment to go to."

"Check up?" Sanada asked and Yukimura nodded. "Do-" he stopped when Renji opened his mouth to speak too. Renji nodded for Sanada to finish first. "Do you want me to go with you?" He knew Yukimura hated the hospital, although he tried not to show it. Even now, he only accepted Sanada's offer with a nonchalant shrug.

That sorted, he turned his attention back to Renji. "You were saying?"

"Hmm?" Renji picked up his green tea. "Nothing."

"Do you want to come with us?"

Renji shook his head, his movement very very small. "I'm going to the book store."

To those who didn't know, they may have thought that Renji's attitude - even when Yukimura was in hospital he didn't visit as often as Sanada did - showed that he didn't care. But it was Renji's quiet words that sometimes reminded Sanada how unthoughtful he could be in his thoughtfulness. He should know by now that Yukimura wouldn't want too many people to go with him; he wasn't dying, he didn't want to feel like he needed extra moral support, and it was a hospital, not a party.

Often, Renji's thorough consideration made Sanada feel like a fool.

He couldn't stop thinking about it even when they sat in the waiting room, queuing for a nurse to come and take Yukimura's blood sample.

"You think too much," said Yukimura, flicking through a magazine and not looking up. It was as if he could tell what Sanada was thinking just by sitting next to him. "I like Renji but I only need one of him."

Sanada hoped Renji at least found a good book he had not read before.

 

_In a hot summer morning, at the local book shop, I met Ken for the first time. I was ten years old. The book shop was one that sold not just books but also other things such as newspapers, magazines, greeting cards and writing paper. It was the front of an old man's house. He lived at the back and occasionally customers had to go and wake him from his afternoon nap so that they could pay for their purchases. On a day like this one, miserably hot and suffocatingly humid, he had the only fan in the shop on the cashier desk, pointing at himself._

_I showed him an advertisement from a magazine I borrowed from my father. "Can I get this box set?"_

_"What is it?" The old man took the magazine from me, lowered his glasses and cranked back his neck. He always read like that, I never understood why. The pages ruffled from the wind from the fan and that irritated me, somehow. "I could order it in, but it's 4500 yen, kid. Who's going to pay for it?"_

_"I will."_

_"You?" The chuckle from the old man's lips was one of the most depreciating sounds I had ever heard. "Okay, then. Pay now and I'll order it for you."_

_I did not have the money right there. In fact, I could not even be sure if I would ever have that amount of money. 4500 yen sounded like an astronomical figure to the ten-years-old me and there was no way I could convince my parents to give me that sum. Why I even went to the book shop in the first place, I did not know. Perhaps it was a thing of fate._

_"I won't order it unless you pay first. I don't know if anybody else'd want it. 4500 yen worth of books sitting on my shelves gathering dust!" He gave me back the magazine. "Besides, aren't you too young to be reading Natsume Soseki?"_

_I stood there for a while, too angry to move, the retort that some of his books had been there for years on the edge of my lips. The old man ignored me and took money from Ken, the customer behind me._

_Ken was there to buy newspaper. Later on, he explained that his family made him go out to get the paper every morning. I asked why they did not arrange a delivery and he said he did not know._

_That was the first time we met. We stepped out of the shop at the same time and he caught my attention by suddenly saying, "I have Natsume Soseki books at home."_

_I stopped to look at this boy beside me. I had not noticed that he had paid attention to the exchange between me and the old man._

_"They're just on the book case. Nobody touches them. You can come and read them if you'd like."_

_Upset by what I had been told earlier, this offer sounded irresistible. I agreed despite not knowing who this boy was. It was only on our way to Ken's home, just two blocks away from my own, that we introduced ourselves and Ken explained extremely embarrassedly that his family had been bothering him about his solitude, how he didn't seem to have any friends. So I promised to act as his friend if he let me have access to the bookshelves at his house._

_Ken's family was friendly to me, and amused by my apparent interest in literature. I was indeed far too young to appreciate most of the themes or even to know some of the words. In all honesty, I only started reading because I wanted to look different and clever._

_But sometimes, an act could become real: I fell madly in love with books, and Ken and I became real friends. It turned out we attended the same school but were in different classes and so never noticed each other._

_Itsuki also went to our school and we met her in a rather unfortunate incident in which Ken mistook her for a boy. Nothing was hurt apart from Ken's conscience. It was one of those things we would laugh about for the rest of our lives._

 

There were rumours going around saying that Sanada and Yukimura were dating.

"Can't blame them," Yukimura said, peeling a banana meticulously. "Tall, good-looking, dating age, but single. Must be gay."

Sanada rubbed his temples, his frown deepening when Yukimura made a show of eating the banana. He hoped Yukimura would choke.

"They also say I'm tennisexual, though. I don't know how it'll work. I suppose Monday, Wednesday and Friday with you, Tuesday, Thursday and Saturday with my racket, and rest on Sunday? How do you feel about this arrangement?"

Sanada took the other unpeeled banana from Yukimura's lunch box. "How about I shove this up yours?"

"My Genichirou is such a manly man."

Sanada scooted away before Yukimura's head could touch his shoulder. Pulling a face, Yukimura leaned to the other side, against Renji instead.

"Enni! Geniihiou ii eeen 'o ee!"

"Please remove the banana from your mouth before speaking," said Renji, raising an amused eyebrow.

Yukimura did as he was told. "Genichirou's mean to me!"

"I can't say you haven't earned it yourself." Renji put the chopsticks inside his lunch box and replaced the lid.

"I don't like my rumour boyfriend. We should date instead." Yukimura tilted his head back to look up, blinking rapidly. "I'll give you my Sundays too. Come on, I'm all-girl under my clothes, remember?"

Renji pretended to think about it carefully. "I think you should give Genichirou another chance."

"You're lying." A slow grin surfaced on Yukimura's lips. "I can always tell when you're lying."

"Ah, I forget that you are omniscient."

"I don't get called the Child of God for nothing."

Sanada held his face in his hands and wondered why he was friends with these people.

"You're just jealous, Genichirou."

"Oh, shut up."

 

_The poster was huge compared with all the notices on the cork board. It was printed in full colour on glossy paper and drew half the school's attention the moment the prefect pinned it up. He had to pin it right to the top of the board so that the poster would stay in the cork area. I remember going to fetch a stool for him to stand on. The exact nature of the poster, though, has escaped my memory. It was to promote a design competition of some sort, perhaps a new anti-crime poster for the local police station, or a poster for the public library._

_"Let's enter." That was all Itsuki said, her eyes fixed firmly on the speech bubble that described the top prize: 5000 yen worth of book tokens and school equipment. And because she said so, we all entered._

_Two weeks later, our designs were ready. I took one look at Itsuki and Ken's, and knew mine was rubbish in comparison. Itsuki was good at art and everything else under the sun and Ken's determination always helped him to produce something that, for the lack of a better word, had "soul" to it. Mine was just a piece of work by a school child._

_Life was unfair - I learned about that at a tender age. It was an inevitable thing, always being with exceptional people who could be good at anything they chose by either sheer genius or immense willpower. Being with people like them made me strive to always improve myself and surpass my limits. I read with interest and also conviction, constantly broadening my horizons. Subsequently I studied languages, played sports, learned music, mastered chess... and all of this less out of a sense of competition and more out of the desire to become their equal. In my effort, I became what some people classified as abnormal, a geek and a nerd. I would rather be all of those than ordinary. Itsuki and Ken were not ordinary, so why would I want to be that?_

_The results were soon announced: Itsuki's design was awarded the first prize, and Ken's third. Between them they received 7000 yen in book tokens and stationery. My entry did not even make it to the "highly commended" list._

_The day after that, I found the complete works of Natsume Soseki inside my school locker._

 

On a day Sanada had to stay behind for classroom duty and there was no tennis practice, Yukimura sat in the classroom and asked Sanada if he was jealous.

"Of who?"

"Seigaku's Inui."

"For?"

"Taking up Renji's time."

Sanada pulled a face. "Don't be ridiculous. What made you say that?"

"They hadn't made contact for four years and all of a sudden he appears and all but claims Renji to himself." Yukimura lowered his chin onto arms that were folded on a desk. "It's annoying, don't you think?"

"Well..." Yukimura had pulled this one on him before; Sanada wasn't going to fall for the same trick. "Do _you_ think?"

The smirk at appeared on Yukimura's lips proved that Sanada was right about Yukimura attempting to coax words out of him. "I think," he said, "it's a tad annoying. I don't see them becoming best buddies and all he's been doing is listen to Inui on the phone every other day or so, but that's not the way it works here."

Sanada understood well what Yukimura meant. The three of them had an understanding established from years of friendship: Renji would check their English homework, Yukimura would order one water and two teas, and Sanada would collect the balls and switch off the lights while Renji and Yukimura wind the tennis net down and fold it up. It worked well because the three of them were so used to each other's habits. Now it almost felt as though someone was trying to steal a vertex from their triangle.

"Do you think he really cares about Inui?" Yukimura asked.

"Maybe he's just being polite. Seiichi, let's be mature about this. They're old friends," said Sanada, more in an effort to convince himself than Yukimura. He finished wiping the board and hurried with the rest of the tasks, not liking this conversation.

"I reckon he's got an ulterior motive."

"Like what?"

"To leave us with each other. Eventually we would either kill each other or start dating."

The thought horrified and fascinated Sanada at the same time. "And the scenario Renji wants would be..." the latter, Sanada thought. "Oh my God."

"He's been doing it for quite some time." Yukimura shook his head, resigned. "Silly Renji."

Sanada turned around from closing the last window to find Yukimura chuckling. After a while, though, the amusement left his face.

"Back to the thing about Inui, though. You do notice this is what would happen if any of us start dating, right?"

Sanada had never thought about it. He was not sure if he wanted to start.

 

_I could not look at her as I waited for her to speak. My gaze settled on her handbag, tracing the subtle pattern on the material. It was a plain, practical bag that she used, with only a single chain of trinkets dangling from the end of the zipper. A lot about her was quite plain but that was what I adored about her; the girls I saw on the streets often horrified me with their extravagant hair and monogram-covered handbags worth a year of their parents' salaries, and I did not want to hold a hand that had blue claws with glitter and rhinestones set into them._

_"It's not working. Let's stop."_

_I could not say I was not expecting this, and knew what she meant by "not working", yet I attempted to salvage the situation anyway. "I'll try harder."_

_"You aren't even good at pretending you're interested in me at all. We've had some happy times, let's keep it as a good memory rather than ruin it."_

_Never underestimate a girl's perception._

_Reluctantly I agreed. She was right, of course. I told her so, thanked her, wished her all the best, and we let go. The relationship lasted the two months, the bulk of it taking place over summer break, an unintentionally "secret" affair that even those close to me did not know about. During those two months I did my best to care for her and make her happy. In that respect, I felt I was better than anyone could be to his girlfriend. Unfortunately, there was one element I did not have and could not fake - attraction._

_I could not transfer my feeling of attraction towards Itsuki onto someone else._

_Yes, I liked Itsuki. One day, at the first week of high school, I saw her whispering something into Ken's ear and Ken pulling back, his face flushing a bright red, and then she reached up to make a mess of his hair. I went to distract them from their private conversation. That was how I realised I liked her. There was no great flash of insight, no sudden dawn of comprehension, but rather, a dark and ugly jealousy that made me feel guilty just for feeling that way. But the inevitability of it, that I fell for the one who had been the closest to me, gave me a strange sense of reassurance that I was, after all, quite normal._

_There were many reasons I could use for not asking Itsuki out, but in the end I could not say any of them were true. I was not afraid of seeing someone who was better than me in most ways. I was not afraid of morphing a friendship into something more intimate. I was not afraid of rejection - I knew I had a chance, even, of being accepted. The one reason that was closer to the truth was that I felt Ken suited Itsuki better. I knew for a fact that Ken had never considered Itsuki - he could be read like an open book - but that was only matter of time. It was not about not wanting to hurt a friend's feelings but just knowing what was better, taking steps back and seeing the greater picture._

_I wished I could stop doing that._

 

Renji let loose in Sanada's family library was like a well-taught, well-behaved child taken into a candy store and told he could take anything he wanted. Something about this must have violated a law of non-contradiction in the universe; Sanada had never seen anyone looking like he was about to erupt in excitement still managing to be remain composed and polite. And it was not even the whole library, just part of the collection the Sanada family somehow ended up with duplicate copies of, or no longer wanted.

"Are you sure I can take them?" Renji's trembling finger ran across the spine of a book.

"We'll give anything you don't want to the public library. So take what you like, it really doesn't matter."

Slowly going through the piles, Renji took about a third of the books, putting them into the boxes Sanada had prepared for him like they were newly-uncovered treasures. "Thank you," he smiled his barely-there smile, his eyes fixed on a page, unable to resist the urge to leaf through one of the books right away. "This is so generous of your family."

Sanada only shrugged. "Like I said, it's either you or the library. You'd probably treat them better." He leaned forward, taking a better look at what Renji was reading. "Don't you already have this one?"

"I read mine at home. It would be good to have a copy I can take around with me." Renji lifted his gaze from the book. "Would you prefer if I didn't take the Sosekis?"

"No, take them." The revelation made Sanada feel a bit embarrassed. He knew Renji always treated his possessions with care but had not guessed he still kept the Soseki boxset this carefully. "I was just thinking I've never read the books myself."

"Do you want to..." Renji closed the book, but Sanada shook his head before he offered it back to him.

"We've got another copy somewhere."

Renji's loot took up two boxes. Sanada helped his friend carry them home, all of a sudden realising they were alone together for the first time in weeks.

"Your friend Inui," he heard himself say, "does he read a lot too?"

The question evidently surprised Renji, a difficult thing to do. "I don't think so. He spends a lot of time writing and typing." Renji looked at his friend. "Why?"

Sanada didn't know why he asked. "Just thinking, you once said you two are similar."

Renji cocked his head and thought about it, trying to recall that conversation from over a year ago. "In some ways. In other ways we cannot be more different."

"Hmph. He still calls you often?"

"I believe he has found another subject of interest; his attention shifts from one thing to another once in a while. So no, we haven't actually spoken for a few months already." Renji adjusted the weight in his arms. "Is there something you want from Seigaku?"

Sanada thought about this.

"So basically he found something more interesting and just dumped you?"

Renji started to chuckle. "It's just the way he is," he said, and added, "and I did dump him first, years ago."

"So this is his idea of revenge?"

Renji's eyebrows rose. "This is starting to sound like Sadaharu and I had been dating."

Sanada choked on his saliva. He put the box down and coughed violently until things went down the right way again. By the time he felt safe to speak, his face was bright red - not just from the coughing.

"That's not what I meant." He scrambled to change the topic. "Anyway, so where have you been if not hanging out with him? You've been disappearing after practice and at weekends."

Renji didn't answer. He had that inward smile, a self-satisfied look that said he had a plan and was waiting for it to come to fruition, and Sanada couldn't help but think about what Yukimura had told him. But what would be the best way to tell Renji that he had got the wrong idea, just like the rest of the world? How could Sanada tell Renji, who was never wrong, that he was actually wrong if Sanada couldn't explain the reason why he always turned to Yukimura and not Renji whenever he needed anything?

"Ah, sorry. I have things to do at home; it's kept me busy."

"Anything I can help you with?"

"It's not anything bad. It just takes a lot of time, that is all. But thank you."

It sounded like Renji truly had something to do rather than excluded himself in his effort to get his friends to start dating each other. Sensing that Renji was being deliberately vague, Sanada didn't ask further. By now Renji must know that if he needed help, all he had to do was ask.

Sanada was tempted to say words such as "things aren't as much fun without you" or "Seiichi and I miss you when you're not there" or even "are you avoiding me because you _know_?", but that would only make Renji feel guilty and it also screamed of lack of understanding; his friend had things that he did on his own or with people who were not him, and he should respect that.

With considerations like these, Sanada felt there was nothing he could say.

 

_"Ken and I are going to Tokyo for the weekend. I think we'll find a cheap ryokan to stay in. Do you want to come?" Itsuki asked earnestly, leaning across the desk to stare at me in the face, forcing me to stop writing for the moment._

_"I'm not interested," I lied through my teeth. My gaze fell back onto the paper in an attempt to not let her look at me in the eye. "But I hope you two have fun."_

_Silence ensued. The shadow on the note book told me Itsuki was not moving an inch from her position. After what felt like an hour but could not possibly be longer than ten minutes, my face began to grow warm from a cocktail of anger, shame and the desire to disappear, just from being so blatantly scrutinised by her at such proximity. When I finally admitted defeat, stopped writing to look at her again, she spoke, her voice as gentle as the caress I imagined she would give to a lover._

_"I can tell when you're lying."_

_My heart pounded against my chest. My throat constricted, going dry in an instant._

_How could she be so cruel, to strip me of my defences like this?_

_I could not recall how that conversation ended. Perhaps it never did. I was shocked that she knew and humiliated me in the face about it and I did not even know who to direct my anger at - her, Ken, or myself._

_On Saturday morning, I walked to the local book shop, now looked after by the old man's teenage granddaughter because he had grown too old and had been moved into care. I heard, from the neighbourhood housewives' conversation near the non-burnables collection point, that the old man was forced into care by his own family because they could not stand him any longer. Perhaps he still pointed the only fan in the house at himself on hot days?_

_I headed straight for the shelves with the new books, wanting to find something that would occupy me for the weekend, something new to learn while Ken and Itsuki went on their trip and slept in each other's arms at the ryokan. The more I thought about it, the more I knew Itsuki only asked me to go out of politeness. She knew I would decline her offer, but it was better for me to say no than to find out they had gone and not having been invited to join in the first place._

_Was she cruel? Or too considerate? I could no longer tell._

_I was looking at a book on the history of the American stock market when Ken found me._

_"I thought you're going to Tokyo," I said._

_"Getting the newspaper. We're meeting up at the train station later."_

_"I see."_

_"Are you sure you don't want to come?"_

_"Yes. I have things to do."_

_"Anything I can help you with? You've been disappearing after school and at weekends a lot lately."_

_Smiling, I shook my head. "Just some things for home." He accepted the explanation. I liked it that he trusted me so completely. I often reminded myself to never abuse this trust, but what I was doing was not abuse. I admit to wishing for Ken to say something like "things aren't as much fun without you" or "Itsuki and I miss you when you're not there", but that was no different from wishing to be told a lie. I never doubted that he valued my friendship, but Itsuki was the one who had his attention now. I predicted this, saw it coming, and then watched it happen. It twisted me in the gut, but I would not let it affect me, I would keep moving in the direction I have chosen._

_Ken paid for his purchase and left first. I told him to take care of Itsuki, with the added threat of castration should she be hurt, and laughed when his eyes almost fell out of their sockets._

 

Sanada opened his mouth and closed it. He repeated that several times until Yukimura stopped looking out the train window to glare at him and tell him to spit it out.

Sanada really wasn't sure if he should. "Do you want to know what Renji said to me?"

"What?"

The usually powerful voice was suppressed to a mere whisper. "That he'll... cut me if I hurt you."

Yukimura thought about it, then leaned forward, his forearms on his thighs, his face totally serious. "Genichirou."

"What?"

"I like girls."

It took a moment for the words to click in Sanada's head. "I'm not hinting at anything!" he shouted, then realised he had shouted and used his baseball cap to hide himself from other passengers' annoyed looks. Yukimura sniggered at him. "Just... why don't you tell him then?"

A thin eyebrow arched. "Why don't you?"

Sanada did not answer that question.

"It's funny, and my manly pride can't be so easily hurt," said Yukimura, tucking a lock of hair behind his ear, revealing sharp jawline and a face that was suddenly devoid of all the femininity that people often associated him with. This was the Yukimura Seiichi Sanada often saw on the tennis court. "But isn't it time to stop? Enough of using me as the excuse."

Sanada did not reply to that either.

"I suppose there's still time." Yukimura shrugged, sitting back in his seat, casting his gaze out the window once more. "It seems like the Master hasn't got much data on himself yet. He can be quite a good liar, you know?"

This time, Sanada did not know what Yukimura was talking about.

 

_The snow storm that came that night was like a beast pouncing out from nowhere, roaring fiercely, forcing all to beat a swift retreat to some place safe. I looked out the window and saw people rushing back home from the convenience store down the road, people hurriedly retrieving laundry drying on the line and, against what some may call "better judgement", little children jumping about in little family gardens yelling for more snow to fall. That, incidentally, would be what Itsuki would have made us do with her if she was here. She had a way of making a lot of things, no matter how wrong or embarrassing, seem okay to do._

_Unfortunately, she was in Tokyo, not here to drag me out into the snow, so I stayed in my room, where the American stock market kept me company until I put it aside, sank into bed and gave up on pretending._

_On such a cold night, what would I do if I was in bed with her? Probably what Ken was must be doing with her right now. Undressing her, nuzzling that warm place between her neck and shoulder, breathing in her scent, running his hands all over her skin._

_I closed my eyes, hands started touching myself by instinct, nudging on the elastic of my pyjama trousers and then sneaking beneath underwear, grasping the flesh underneath._

_Itsuki would welcome him, stretching her body under his touch. She would need more, feel Ken's naked body on top of her. Fingers would grasp the sweater he wore and it would be lifted over his head and tossed aside. When he sat up to unfasten his jeans, she would sit, too, and lips would find his chest, latch onto a nipple, licking, sucking. And he would moan, bow his head, whisper her name, and then she would look up, and they would kiss._

_She would press up against him and he would hold her, circle her with strong arms, squeezing tight with a barely-controlled passion as his tongue invaded her mouth in a prelude to what he intended to do to her later. He would steal her breath away and she would know nothing except from wanting him, wanting more of him._

_The flesh in my hands hardened. I bit back a moan, turned onto my side, away from my door._

_All of a sudden, Itsuki pressed Ken down on the bed, taking him by surprise. She leaned over him, a tongue darting up to lick at his ear before biting it playfully, making him smile. But he gasped when she moved southwards, lips finding his neck and hands touching him all over, inexperienced but eager. She kissed her way down, his muscles trembling in response, stopping at the concealed bulge just above the juncture of his legs. She kissed it, sucking it through the cloth, making him gasp again. His hands were in her hair now, wordlessly begging her for more and she finally obliged, removing the last piece of clothing from his body and taking him into her mouth._

_My hand pumped faster._

_"Stop. Stop..." Ken pulled on my hair, forcing me to let go of him. His organ was flushed and fully erect, glistening from the kiss I had just given. He nudged me, making me lie down. And then he was pulling off my underwear and covering my body with his own, and everywhere that he touched burned, and I was on fire when he held my face and kissed me, tongue plunging, invading me as our lengths rubbed together, first experimentally and then frantically._

_"Ken," between kisses, I tried to speak despite my breathlessness, "I need more."_

_"I want..." It was not enough. We clung on to each other now, moving our hips, trying to get more friction. "Would you let me..."_

_I nodded._

_I spread my legs and he pushed inside me._

_Hard as I tried, I did not last long. A few frenzied thrusts from Ken, stretching me and filling me in the most incredible way, were enough send me over the edge. My vision went black as I released myself in his hand and pleasure shot through me, his name on the edge of my lips._

_I lay there, spent and exhausted, my hands covered in my own seeds, for a few minutes._

_And then, I realised._

 

One day, Sanada looked around him and realised something.

At least half of the passengers on the bus were reading the same book.

The scene reminded him of a few years ago when the iPod suddenly came into fashion and everywhere he looked, there was someone wearing a mysterious pair of white earbuds. Or when _The Da Vinci Code_ was popular and everyone but him seemed to be reading it. Or when Starbucks first launched in Japan and walking around with a big paper cup became the thing to do. Or Harry Potter. Or a great number of other things that Sanada deemed rubbish simply because it was popular.

It was a childish mentality, of course. Sanada didn't like to follow the crowd - what if he didn't like it? What if he couldn't work the iPod or understand the story of _The Da Vinci Code_? (He did read that book, in the end, because his brother had a copy lying around. It turned out to be a waste of time, further proving that he was, to quote Yukimura, so "out of fashion" that his tastes ran in a completely different direction from the general public.)

On the day of this realisation, Sanada went to school and, to his horror, saw that Yagyuu was reading that very book. He couldn't help becoming curious:

"Yagyuu, what's that?"

Yagyuu looked up. "Good morning, Sanada-kun," he said, polite as always. "This is a relatively new novel Niou-kun recommended to me."

Niou? Sanada got even more curious. "Is it a murder mystery?"

"A love story." Yagyuu's reply shocked Sanada. "Well, it also explores the theme of growing up, but it is the romantic element that is the main focus."

The conversation extended from their classroom to the tennis club room, where a few of the members had already arrived and changed. "I can't believe you read that sort of thing."

"Excuse me!" Yagyuu seemed offended. " _Acceleration: a Memoir_ has won the Naoki Prize!"

"It's a love story. Winning an award doesn't change that fact."

Akaya, who had been doing up his shoelaces, sided with Yagyuu. "That's why Sanada-fukubuchou gets no girls."

Oh, so the personal attacks began. "Akaya, you have no right to comment on my personal life!"

"Just as you have no right to comment on Yagyuu-senpai's reading choice." Akaya stuck his tongue out at Sanada briefly. Some things just never change - even in high school, Akaya continued to be Sanada's constant headache. "Besides, that's a really good book. You're a loser for dissing it before you've even read it. It's like, about this guy who-"

At one corner sorting out the contents of his locker, Marui suddenly shouted. "Oi kid! No spoiling, I'm only half way through!"

From there on, the conversation left Sanada. At least half of the room was talking about the book, including Yukimura. It was immature of him, Sanada knew, but he was starting to hate that book before he even knew anything about it.

Yukimura, though, being considerate, at least had the sense to try to include his best friend in the conversation. "No one knows who the author is or what he looks like. It's written under a pen name and the author refuses all interviews because of 'social anxiety'. Actually he could be a she. No one knows."

Sanada was not impressed. "Just a marketing ploy."

Akaya bounced to Renji, who stood at the locker to Sanada's left. "Yanagi-senpai, what do you think?"

Renji closed his locker. "Sorry, what about?"

"The author of _Acceleration_. Guy or gal?" When Renji paused to think, Akaya urged, "you read like, hundreds of books, you must be able to tell!"

"Male," said Renji after some consideration, "probably."

"How old is he? And is it a real story?"

"It is very hard to say." Renji smiled apologetically. "I'm sorry."

"Fuck, like, it might be real?" Akaya's voice was starting to make Sanada's head hurt. "Some guy really wrote about - nmph!"

The room fell silent when Yukimura stepped up behind Akaya and put a hand over the loud mouth.

"No spoiling Bunta and Yagyuu. No yelling in the club room. And no swearing! Everyone go run ten laps for warm up! Akaya do an extra ten! Last one to leave gets thirty!"

The club room was empty in an instant, save for the captain and vice-captain. Sanada was about to leave, too, when Yukimura put a hand on his shoulder.

"I think you should read this." Yukimura pulled out a copy of _Acceleration: a Memoir_ from his bag, pressing it into Sanada's hands. He winked. "You might learn something from it."

 

_My world screeched to a halt, the force throwing me forward, my feeble hold to reasoning pulling me back, and I hurt all over from the whiplash. I rang Itsuki on the phone and tried to tell her, but managed to say very little apart from "sorry". She, on the other hand, informed me that she did not fancy Ken at all. I wanted to tell her more, but even to someone this close to me, who knew me better than myself, my tongue was tied and my mouth trembled. The shock was still too fresh for verbal communication._

_She listened very patiently as I cried._

_The next day, I woke up to sunlight shining upon two feet deep of snow. I washed, wrapped up warm, and stepped out onto the front porch. Gathering handfuls of snow and pressing it tight together, I built a small snowman, gave it a smile and let it sit on the stone step of the threshold._

_The facts were starting to sink in. It would be some time before I could accept them - and myself - but the brunt of the shock had begun to ebb away, at least. I should consider the way forward. But was there one? Which way was forward?_

_A force that I had done well ignoring for a long time had caught up with me, finally. I had no more excuses; I could no longer place blame on Itsuki, or wish that I was her. I had to grow up. But even as I tried to establish where I was and which way to go next, I was already moving again, accelerating to breakneck speed, towards a direction that was foreign to me. It took control of me and left me with no choice but to be swept away._

_Fear paralysed me._

_There was no one for me to turn to. I would not burden Itsuki with this any further and Ken was out of the question._

_"What are you doing?"_

_I turned around and saw them standing behind me. "You've come back early?" I asked, struggling to keep my voice steady._

_"The forecast said there'll be more snow this afternoon; we took the first train back in case the lines get blocked up." Itsuki crouched down beside me and smiled at me, and I knew the snow was only a convenient excuse. "Your snowman needs a friend." She scooped snow into her hands, patted it into balls and soon, there were two snowmen standing side-by-side. I probably would have cried again if she did not make one more snow ball and threw it at Ken, catching him right in the face._

_Some time later, after they had left for home and I went back inside to change into something dry, I got a pen and some paper and started to write._

_What I was not yet ready to tell those closest to me, I found easier to put into the writing. It was words that brought us together at first. Perhaps with words I would find the way._

 

The girl was just about to open shop. Sanada nodded at her in greeting, then stepped back a little to avoid seeing her cleavage when she plopped down, removed the large padlock and pulled up the shutter gate. There were stacks of newspapers and magazines outside the shop, tied with strings and left there since being delivered early morning. She moved them in one by one, no doubt hoping that Sanada would help her, but he was too preoccupied to care, words he had prepared running over and over in his mind but no doubt would be lost the moment he needed them.

As Sanada stared at his feet, a shadow appeared, overlapping with his own. It shrank when its owner bent down, picked up two stacks of newspapers easily and carried them inside the shop. The person paused beside Sanada.

"Good morning," Renji said, smiling.

"Good morning," Sanada replied. This was it. No more excuses. "Renji, we need to talk."

 

 

[end]


End file.
